


Monster

by AU_Queen



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Implied Child Abuse, Kinda, Monsters, Past Abuse, Tumblr writing prompts, implied Moriarty/Seb, monster under the bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-12-22 13:14:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11968158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AU_Queen/pseuds/AU_Queen
Summary: Prompt: You're in charge of assigning every child on Earth the monster under their bed. One child in particular one child in particular has caused every monster assigned to him/her to quit. You decide to assign yourself.~prompt from @writing-prompt-s





	Monster

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the John to my Sherlock, Kirk to my Bones, who wanted to see this prompt done with the Sherlock fandom. Here you go.

    His best monster, Sebastian, had just come back to their shared house. Moriarty looked at him hopefully, but he just shook his head.  
    “Not even you, Sebby?” He frowned in his disappointment.  
    “Sorry, boss.” Sebastian frowned back.  
    Dinner had been silent after that, Moriarty lost in thought and Sebastian letting him think. It wasn't until they were in bed that Moriarty finally spoke.  
    “I guess I'll have to go,” he said out loud, a statement with a hint of question. Sebastian hummed in question and Moriarty turned to face him. “I went through it. There's no one else, it has to be me.”  
    “Okay.” Sebastian nodded.  
    The following morning, Moriarty left with Sebastian wishing him good luck.  
    “Babe, I don’t need luck,” Moriarty said with a wink and left.

  
~~~~

    The room was quiet as he entered, but the sounds of a piano softly playing the opening notes to Stayin’ Alive began to play as he got settled. It was dark under the child’s bed, but Moriarty knew to appreciate the dark.  
    “You’re not going to scare me,: a voice said from the top of the bed.  
    Of course, being a naturally more curious monster, and bored fairly easily, Moriarty had to move and see what exactly this child looked like. See what kind of child wasn’t frightened by any of his numerous monsters. He crawled out from his spot under the bed and rested his head on the edge of the bed. The child sat in the middle of it with the covers draw up around their shoulders.  
    It was a female child, a young girl who looked barely nine. Moonlight shone through the window behind her, letting him see a mishmash of bruises along her upper arms and shoulders. These were topped by newer bruises, bold and purpling, around her neck. Bruises that were clearly made by large hands.  
    “What happened?” he asked her and she met his eyes, but only for a moment. It was long enough for him to catch the sadness of someone much older than this child in her clear, brown eyes.  
    “I’m clumsy,” she whispered the words, and he could hear in her voice that they were taught, rehearsed. “I fall a lot.”  
    He only nodded in response, and he knew that she knew, he didn’t believe her. Even so, he didn’t push it.  
    “None of my monsters scare you.”  
    “I don’t scare easily,” she turned back to look at him again, and this time he noticed a dark circle surrounding her right eye It looked new.  
    “I see,” he glanced toward the door where a light had just flickered on, “you already have a monster. Don’t you?” Moriarty turned back to the girl as he spoke. She flinched when he mentioned her personal monster. After a second, though, she gave a curt nod.  
    With a sigh, Moriarty moved to sit on the edge of her bed. She scooted toward the other edge, away from him and he saw a flash of unspoken fear cross her eyes. From the markings littering the child’s pale skin, he knew the fear was because of his appearance and how it matched her monster’s. He was in his natural form, a human male with dark hair and even darker eyes. An appearance most ignored. But it was strikingly similar to the child’s father.  
    He stayed still on the corner of that bed, away from the child. Eventually the light that came from beneath the door turned off and with it, the girl fell asleep. Still he stayed, though he wasn’t truly sure why, until dawn.  
    His visits soon became nightly and soon the child had warmed up to him. She would sit calmly by his side, being lulled to sleep by the continuous sounds of the piano that followed him everywhere, softly playing Stayin’ Alive. Sometimes he would read her fairy tales, the original Brother’s Grimm stories of course- he didn’t touch any of that Disney bullshit- until she fell asleep. Once the sun started to rise, he would promptly exit through the door that rested under her bed.  
    Often when he returned, he would take note of a new bruise or two. Sometimes on bad nights there were a multitude, and she would sit on his lap with his arms around her. Moriarty knew he would have to do something about this soon, and it wouldn’t be pretty. He couldn’t wait.  
    The day to do something came soon, and for this Moriarty was glad. He knew it had been a bad day when she hadn’t even let him say anything when he arrived, instead going immediately to sit in his lap. In a moment he saw a busted lip, more handprints surrounding her neck, and multiple purpling bruises on her shoulders. With his arms around her, he pressed a kiss to the top of her head and felt her relax. But it was short-lived as lights shone from under the door and heavy footsteps pounded toward the room. The child tensed back up and pushed him away.  
    “Hide,” she whispered the word in a shaky voice. Instead of listening, he pushed her to sir behind him. The child seemed to want to argue, but all words fell from her and she went pale as the door was violently thrown open. Moriarty watched as a different kind of monster entered the room, a monster he would never give to a child. This kind stumbled into the room, bringing with him the stifling scent of booze, puke, and sweat.  
    Moriarty knew what he had to do, and he also knew Seb probably wouldn’t like it. But it’s not like he always listened to him, so it didn’t bother him.  
    The man stopped at the door, beer in hand, and blinked hard at Moriarty. “Who the hell is this arse?” His voice ground out, stiff and loud and sounding like gravel.  
    “I’m the one who’s taking your daughter,” Moriarty spoke the words absently, treating them like fact, while he stepped off the bed.  
    “You’re not taking her anywhere,” the man growled as he took a step toward him.  
    “Close your eyes,” Moriarty told the girl before he turned his full attention on her exfather. He took a step toward him, then another, and two more before he was standing nose-to-nose with the man. Stayin’ Alive still played around him, just as it always did, but now the notes had moved to a crescendo and drums played harshly in the background. His height changed so he was a good two feet taller than the man, and his shoulders broadened so he looked less like a nerd who worked in the IT department and more like a linebacker. Spikes sprang from his back as he popped his spine. Then he looked down at the man. His mouth opened in an impossibly wide, fanged smile and he watched with satisfaction as the man stumbled backwards.  
    “If you ever tell anyone about this or try to find her, I will skinnn you Mr. Hooper,” he spoke in a calm but cold tone, words coming out in a hiss. All the man could do was nod  
    “Good,” Moriarty returned to normal, “and remember, I will know if you deceive me and am always looking for a new pair of shoes.” He let his finger trail across the man’s cheek before he turned back to the child. He smiled, this time with normal teeth, when she saw the girl watching his every move with wide eyes. She hadn’t closed them, just as he expected she would.  
    “Shall we?” he offered his hand and she accepted it without hesitation and an enthusiastic nod.  
    Her father simply watched as they left by the exit beneath her bed, the exit only his monsters could use, never to return again.  
~~~~  
    “Hey Sebby, I adopted a girl today,” Moriarty told his second as he entered the room, the girl’s hand still in his own.  
    “I know.” he looked up from the gun he was cleaning, “Her room is two doors from ours, on the right.”  
    “Thank you, babe,” Moriarty sang as he led the girl to her new room.


End file.
